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Authors: Patricia Scanlan

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BOOK: Foreign Affairs
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‘We’re going clubbing in Leeson Street actually, Eilis,’ Paula drawled. The other girl’s jaw dropped open. Much to Paula’s satisfaction.

‘You just think you’re the bee’s fuckin’ knees, don’t you, Miss Paula Matthews?’ Eilis snorted. ‘Well let me tell you something. You’re not. They
might be impressed by your airs and graces down in the back of beyonds where you come from. You country bumpkin. Up here, we’re not.’ Paula was astonished at her classmate’s
outburst. She knew that Eilis didn’t particularly like her. The feeling was mutual. Paula sometimes felt that Eilis was a little jealous of the fun she and Jenny and Beth had. That
wasn’t Paula’s problem. She had as little to do with the other girl as possible and left her to her own devices. Now here she was being venomously abusive for no apparent reason.

‘Grow up and get lost, Eilis,’ Paula said, disgusted.

‘Don’t you talk to me like that, ya snobby little wagon.’ Eilis staggered to her feet. It was obvious she was well jarred. ‘I don’t like you, Paula Matthews. You
just get up my nose as well as giving me a major pain in the arse! So what do you think about that then?’ she challenged aggressively, hands on her hips. Paula gave her a long cold look.

‘I’m devastated.’ Her tone dripped with sarcasm. She turned her back on her raging classmate and walked out of the room, leaving Eilis almost in tears of frustration.

‘That shut her up,’ she murmured to Beth as they made their way to the kitchen to collect Jenny.

‘She’s really pissed, isn’t she?’ Beth was horrified. ‘She shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. How ignorant.’ Paula laughed at her friend’s
indignation.

‘Listen, Beth, don’t worry about the likes of Eilis McNally. I knew a girl like her in St Margaret’s Bay called Monica Boyle and she was a prize bitch. I’m well used to
handling the likes of that one in there,’ she said calmly. Eilis’s outburst had been a surprise, but it didn’t particularly bother Paula. People either liked her or they
didn’t, and obviously Eilis didn’t like her. Paula didn’t intend to lose any sleep over it.

‘I think I’m drunk,’ Jennifer moaned when they found her. ‘I’m slurring my words.’

‘Don’t be daft, Jen, you couldn’t get drunk on two cans of cider. It’s only your imagination,’ Paula said briskly.

‘Oh!’ Jennifer sounded vaguely disappointed to hear that she wasn’t as inebriated as she thought she was.

‘Come on, we’re going to split. Let’s go home and have some hot chocolate and ham sandwiches.’

‘Great idea,’ Jennifer enthused.

An hour later, they sat in Helen’s kitchen and tucked into a tasty supper. They were in their nightdresses, and looking forward to tumbling into bed and sleeping their brains out.

‘Did you see the get-up of McNally? Did you ever see anything like the hot pants?’ Beth sniggered. ‘Who did she think she looked like? Raquel Welch!’

‘Some hope,’ chuckled Paula. ‘Sandra looked lovely though. She’s very pretty.’

‘She was pretty pissed too,’ Jennifer said. ‘I think she was crazy to have a party like that in her house. I bet the neighbours will be doing their nut. I’d say
they’ll complain when her parents come back from their holidays. Just as well Grandpa Myles didn’t live next door, he’d have caused a riot. He’s always moaning at Brenda and
me for playing the stereo too loud,’ she confided.

‘I wouldn’t like to have to clean up all that puke.’ Paula shuddered. ‘Imagine the smell in the house tomorrow.’

‘Urgg! Paula, stop!’ Jennifer made a face.

Paula laughed and yawned. ‘I’m looking forward to my lie-in. I hope it’s raining in the morning. I love having a lie-in when it’s lashing rain.’

‘Me too,’ Jennifer agreed. ‘And we’ve got the party to look forward to next Saturday.’

‘I’d say it will be a great party compared to tonight,’ Beth said.

‘You can say that again,’ Paula declared, eyes sparkling with expectation.

Chapter Thirty

‘I don’t think so, darling,’ Helen said. Paula’s heart sank.

‘But Helen, it’s next door. They’re detectives. They won’t make a racket or anything. They’re much too responsible. We’ll only stay for an hour,’ she
pleaded.

‘No, Paula. I’m sorry, love. They’ve had parties before that have been very noisy. The neighbours complained. People were very drunk at them. I just don’t think you and
the girls are old enough to go to a party like that,’ Helen said firmly.

You should have been at Sandra O’Reilly’s party last weekend, Paula thought sulkily. She wasn’t used to her aunt refusing her anything. In fact it was the first time in her
life that she could remember it ever happening. And she didn’t like it.

‘But Helen, it’s not as if it’s miles away or that we’re going to be out until all hours. Couldn’t we just pop in and make an appearance to be polite and then come
back here after an hour or so?’ Paula tried a last desperate appeal.

‘Paula, please don’t ask me again. My mind’s made up. Obviously that chap who asked you doesn’t realize how young you are. That’s not surprising, you all look much
older than sixteen. But I’m responsible for you while you’re living here in Dublin, and you know as well as I do, love, that your mam and dad wouldn’t allow you to go either. Be
fair now.’

‘It would have only been for an hour.’ Paula pouted.

‘No, Paula, I’m sorry. Now that’s the end of it. Invite the girls over by all means but the party is out, I’m afraid. Besides, I’m sure Mrs Myles and Mrs Cleary
wouldn’t let Jenny and Beth go.’

Paula knew her aunt was right there. Mr and Mrs Myles were quite strict, as was Mrs Cleary, but still Paula knew that Beth wouldn’t be allowed to go to that party if she asked. The plan
had been to say that they were going to a disco as usual.

Paula had never even considered that Helen would not allow her to go. It was a tremendous shock.

‘We’d want to hurry on if we’re going to get to a matinée,’ Helen said cheerfully, beginning to clear away the dinner plates. ‘I love going to the pictures
on a wet Sunday afternoon.’

‘I don’t feel like going. I’m going to my room,’ Paula said huffily.

‘Suit yourself.’ Helen’s tone was very cool.

Paula stalked out of the kitchen. She felt humiliated and angry. She wasn’t a
child
, for heaven’s sake. But Helen had just treated her like one. What on earth was she going
to tell the girls? It was going to be very embarrassing indeed, especially when she’d so confidently told them that Helen wouldn’t mind them going to the party at all. If Helen thought
she was going to go to the pictures after that rebuff, she had another think coming. She would be as frosty as anything with her aunt until she changed her mind, Paula thought angrily as she flung
herself down on her bed and picked up the Mary Stewart novel she was reading. The sound of press doors being slammed and crockery being handled none too gently as the washing-up was done told Paula
that her aunt was equally annoyed.

Let her be, she thought furiously, jumping off the bed to close her bedroom door. If Helen was mad, well, she certainly wasn’t as mad as her niece.

‘The trouble with that girl is she gets away with too much,’ Helen muttered as she cleared the table and flung the knives and forks into the wash basin.

‘The first time I ever refused to let her do anything and look at the carry-on.’ She felt wretched. There had never been bad feeling between them before. She would have liked to let
Paula go to the party. She wasn’t very strict with her, but this time she had to put her foot down. Helen knew that Maura and Pete would not approve. They had been so good to allow Paula to
come and live with her in Dublin. They trusted her to bring up their daughter responsibly. She couldn’t allow her to go to a party where there would be plenty of drink. It just wasn’t
on. That would be to fail in her duty to Maura and Pete. Helen could not do that. No matter how annoyed Paula was.

Helen sighed. She felt very down in the dumps. She could have done without having a tiff with Paula today of all days. She’d been trying her best to stay upbeat, to pretend that today was
just another day, and she’d almost succeeded. An afternoon at the pictures would have helped to keep her mind occupied for another couple of hours. She’d planned to take Paula for a
meal as a treat afterwards. Now it looked as if that plan was scrapped, she thought dejectedly. Whether she liked it or not she was on her own this afternoon. On her own with the thoughts
she’d been trying to avoid this past week. In another life, in happier times, Helen had always greatly looked forward to her wedding anniversary. Anthony always brought her out for a
champagne dinner and made a big fuss of her. Once, he’d given her the surprise of her life and whisked her off to Paris for the weekend. That had been a really happy time. Helen smiled at the
memory and sat down at the kitchen table and poured herself another cup of coffee. There had been many happy times, especially at the beginning. It hadn’t all been bad. Now that she’d
got over that first intense hurt, Helen realized that, unpalatable as it was, she had to take some responsibility for the break-up of their marriage. Those horrible words when her husband had
accused her of nagging him and emasculating him had struck deep. Over and over she’d remembered how he’d said it was an ordeal to make love to her. God, that had killed her. No wonder
he’d become impotent with her. She had been so selfish in her desire to have a child. She’d pressurized Anthony until, without her being aware of it, she’d destroyed her marriage
and sent him into the arms of another woman. She didn’t condone it, but now, much as it still distressed her, Helen could understand how her husband had turned to Molly for comfort.

Anthony and she had little contact now but at least when they did meet they were civil towards each other. The last time they’d met was at the funeral of a mutual friend. They’d gone
for a drink after the funeral. Their grief had united them and they’d shared memories and talked of old times. Swallowing her pride, Helen had apologized for treating Anthony the way she had
during their marriage.

‘I didn’t realize what I was doing to you . . . to us,’ she said huskily. ‘I’m as much to blame as you are.’ It had been hard to say that, but once
she’d said it, she’d felt much less angry, less self-pitying. She could see that her husband was much happier and more relaxed than when they’d been together. Life with Molly
obviously suited him. He’d never come back to her.

Sometimes anyway, she knew she wouldn’t want him back. Helen enjoyed single living. Doing what she liked when she liked. It was nice not having to cook if she didn’t feel in the
humour. It was wonderful to have a lie-in on a wet Saturday, with magazines spread all over the bed. She loved her job too. Going back to work had been the making of her. She had to make decisions.
Pay her own bills. All this helped to give her back the confidence that had been so badly dented by Anthony’s affair. There were times, now, when she felt quite resigned to her lot, and could
even look to the future with equanimity. But today wasn’t one of them. Today she felt she had failed Anthony and failed herself. Would she ever have another relationship? Would that be a
disaster too? It would be nice to love someone and have them love her. She felt very much alone.

‘Sorry, girls, the party’s off,’ Paula told her friends the following day at school. ‘Helen’s doing her responsible aunt bit. What a
drag!’

‘You can’t really blame her,’ Jenny said. ‘If my parents thought I was going to a party like that, they’d freak.’

‘Oh for heaven’s sake, Jenny, we’re not children!’ Paula scoffed. ‘It’s not an orgy we were going to.’

‘I know that, Paula!’ Jenny retorted. ‘But all the same.’

‘Do you think you could persuade her to change her mind?’ Beth queried.

‘No,’ Paula said glumly. ‘But when she goes on holidays with Mam in a few weeks’ time, I just might have a party myself and invite them.’

‘You wouldn’t dare.’ Beth was deeply impressed.

‘I would, too,’ Paula declared defiantly.

‘What about the woman who’s going to be staying with you at night?’ Jenny asked.

‘Oh I don’t know.’ Paula’s defiance wilted. ‘Imagine having a baby-sitter at my age. It’s humiliating.’

‘You wouldn’t stay on your own in a house at night, would you?’ Beth demanded.

‘Of course I would,’ Paula exclaimed. ‘That wouldn’t bother me at all. Would you not?’

‘You’re dead right I wouldn’t.’ Beth shuddered.

‘Beth, I despair of you,’ Paula said loftily. ‘Have you no sense of adventure?’

‘None whatsoever!’ Her friend giggled.

‘Are you coming to the disco then?’ Jenny asked.

Paula shook her head. ‘Naw. I’ll just have a night in for a change.’

‘You mean you’re just going to sulk in your room and make your aunt feel bad,’ Jenny said tartly.

‘So what!’ Paula growled. Jenny could be very astute sometimes. The bell went just then and the conversation was forgotten.

Paula lay in bed listening to the sound of the Dubliners singing
The Rocky Road to Dublin
. The party next door was in full swing and she was feeling totally fed up.
She would have given anything,
anything
, to be in there flirting and dancing. So near and yet so far, it was unbelievable. She and the girls had spent so much time admiring Green Car and
tonight could have been the night when she got to know him. She could have been dancing with him at this very moment if Helen hadn’t been such a spoilsport. Paula had tried once more to
persuade Helen to relent this morning, but she was adamant. Paula gave her the cold treatment all day and spent most of it in her room. She’d gone to bed at nine. It was now one a.m.

There seemed to be a huge crowd next door. People had been arriving since the pubs closed and the sound of car doors banging was constant. The windows were open and the noise of the party
vibrated through the normally peaceful close. Helen had been right about the noise. It was loud, and getting louder by the minute.

By five a.m. that morning, Paula ruefully admitted that her aunt had known exactly what she was talking about. There were ructions going on next door. There had been two rows already. Neighbours
knocked on the door and demanded that the music be turned down. A squad car arrived at one stage, but it didn’t stay long. There was a lot of laughter and cheers from the revellers when the
guards knocked on the door and were welcomed to the party.

BOOK: Foreign Affairs
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